


Seven Years

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-11
Updated: 2006-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry never stopped looking for a second chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Years

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing(s): (pre-) Harry/Draco  
> Warnings: AU-ish. Second person narrative. Takes place on the day of a funeral, so character death implied even if the character isn't mentioned by name.  
> Disclaimer: The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

The bells sound for the funeral. Your car's parked in front of the church and you wait. 

You have to wonder what they were thinking. A Muggle service for _him_? It makes no sense, no matter which way you look at it. 

But you're not here because of him. You're here because... 

It was a starry night up in a high tower. Decisions were made, a life was lost, futures were shattered, and there was nothing you could do. 

Although... 

Sometimes, you think there was. Sometimes, you dream about the alternatives. Sometimes, they keep you awake at night. A lot of the time, you blame yourself. 

You don't think you'll ever see him again, no matter how much you'd like to. And you'd really like to.

Things could have been so very different. 

The mourners enter the church. You watch them carefully. He's not among them. You would have recognised him right away, even after all this time. 

Seven years.

It's clear he's not coming. 

One day, maybe, you'll stop deluding yourself. And once you've managed that, you might be able to forgive yourself, too. 

Move on. Forget about him. It sounds so brilliant in theory, doesn't it? 

You're about to drive off again, disappointed at yet another wild goose chase. 

Your determination will be the death of you, eventually, or at the very least, it'll cost you what little still remains of your sanity. 

You start the engine, you briefly glance into the rear view mirror, and then... 

You blink. It _can't_ be. 

A blond mop of hair; hesitant steps; eyes cast in the direction of the church. 

It _is_. 

Your hands start to shake. Your heart begins to race. Breathing suddenly doesn't come quite as naturally anymore. 

Seven years. 

He hasn't changed, as far as you can tell.

You turn off the engine, almost stumble out of your car. 

Determined, you head in his direction. 

He doesn't notice you, not until you're right in front of him. You think he used to be a lot more observant, considerably more alert. You wonder what happened. 

"Malfoy?" 

He turns his head around and looks at you, recognition instantly obvious on his face. 

_Don't run,_ is all you can think.  _Please, don't run._  

He looks you up and down, anf laughs. It's hollow, it's humourless and it chills you to the bone. "Is this the part where the hero at last catches the villain?" he asks. 

You can't decide whether he's mocking you or challenging you. You hope it's a little of both because that would mean some things haven't changed after all. 

You take a deep breath. You gather your courage. "No," you say, "this is where the idiot owns up to his stupidity." 

"Stupidity," he repeats and regards you with a frown. 

"Yes."

"I see." He sends a malicious sneer your way. "And how does that help me _now_ , exactly?" 

"I told them, you know," you say, "how you didn't do it. That you couldn't... Your name has been cleared. You don't have to keep hiding." 

"The Malfoy name, Potter," he spits out bitterly, "will never be cleared. Father made sure of that." 

You swallow hard. There are so many things you want to say to him and most of them involve "I didn't mean to", "I'm sorry" and "I was wrong". 

So terribly wrong. 

But you don't utter a single word. You _can't_. All you're capable of is to stand there and stare. 

"Was there anything else?" he asks you. 

_Yes,_ your heart screams, but still, you say nothing. Still, you can't. 

So he turns to walk away. 

You shake your head and you tell yourself to move. 

Just. Move.

You know you'll never get this chance again. "Wait," you hear yourself yell and you silently thank whatever gods responsible for the swift return of your voice.

When he does wait and slowly turns around, you thank those deities a second time.

He's looking at you. 

You run up to him and smile. 

You didn't realise it yet, back then, but you've had a lot of time to think things over and you definitely understand it now. 

Seven years.

Funny how time makes everything clearer. 

"I've missed you," you blurt out, "and I was hoping I'd see you again, so I could explain things and make up for, well... so we could start again, I suppose, you see, I..."

"You're rambling, Potter," he points out, but it lacks bite, it's bereft of malice and you think you can see a flicker of something resembling understanding in those grey eyes. 

"Yeah," you say softly. "I suppose I am." 

"So what now?" He crosses his arms and raises a challenging eyebrow. 

Now... 

The truth of the matter is you're not so sure, yourself. You've rehearsed for this moment, you've pictured it in your mind a thousand times, but now... 

You remind yourself that you're a Gryffindor, or at the very least, you used to be, seven years ago. 

You take a deep breath. "Would you like to go somewhere and have a cup of coffee?" you suggest. And you realise it's sort of daft, hardly the big reunion you'd dreamed of or the grand resolution you'd hoped for, but you suppose you have to start somewhere. 

Anywhere. 

He nods slowly. "All right."

You don't know why he agrees, after all this time, but you hope it's because, maybe, he wishes things could have been different, too. 

Time will tell. 

At least you both still have plenty of that left. 


End file.
